Love Unmasked
by Lunavere
Summary: John Watson has seven nights to redeem what his brother, Harry, has destroyed over the course of years. However, in his hope for redemption, he comes across a curious man named Richard Brook. He's like no one else John has ever met - insightful and candid - and John finds himself caught between forging alliances or helping a new romance bloom.
1. The First Night

Due to his diminishing health, the king unfortunately passed away, meaning his son was to ascend to the throne. Naturally, this sparked a frenzy amongst the noble families. Tradition called for a seven-night masquerade extravaganza where both upper and lower nobility would convene at the main palace. For six nights, the noble families would mingle with one another. In order to retain anonymity, they were only allowed to use first names for the first five nights, and only on the sixth night could they reveal their surnames to their new friends. This tradition was created in hopes that any differences could be breached in order to bring both lesser and higher nobility together as one.

This custom also served a second purpose. On the seventh night, the new king, who would also mingle amongst the families incognito, would declare before everyone his betrothed's name. After that, everyone would celebrate the happy news and give the couple their best wishes. All of this was done in hope of forging previously impossible alliances.

A century ago, it had worked without a hitch. Lesser and higher nobility families built lifelong friendships and alliances based on their ideas instead of position, and they came together as a cohesive group. However, times changed everything. Rivalries became fiercer, the need for status and power more overwhelming, and the tradition slowly warped into a blatant search for powerful alliances. Slowly, the tradition started to unravel at the seams.

John Watson was of lower nobility to say the least. His older brother, Harry, nearly drank the family into poverty. Now that Harry was disowned, it was up to John to redeem the family name. That was the sole cause of his being sent to the masquerade – to prove that the Watson family could provide a proper alliance to anyone. After all, no one in his family thought there was any chance that John would capture the attentions and affections of the future king. If John married anyone of a higher standing, his family would be more than satisfied.

John arrived in a chauffeured carriage – the best his family could afford after his brother's fall from grace. It was plush and large enough to carry four people comfortably, which John enjoyed to the fullest extent. Two black-and-white Clydesdales – a breed only saved for royalty – pulled the carriage with grace, and John's family was sure that he would arrive in style. Even so, it was nothing in comparison to the golden-coloured carriages of the other guests, drawn by six horses and adorned with rich, thick curtains and painted accents. Already, he felt outclassed by most of the other nobles.

Upon arrival, he went to his assigned room. This was always a momentous occasion as it gave the first glimpse into the king's mind. Before the week began, the king decided who would stay where in his palace. Depending on location and size of room, one could find out if he or she was in good, neutral, or bad standing with the king. It had nothing to do with actual financial status or landownership. Instead, it reflected the king respected and revered the family. Common courtesy caused for most to remain quiet about their status, even when they were in a good standing, in order to avoid unwittingly making false friends or new enemies.

As expected, John didn't have much of a standing with the king, as his room was one of the "common" ones in the palace. However, in John's opinion, the room was gorgeous. The walls were a rich golden colour that stretched from the dark, wooden floors all the way to the white crown moulding that outlined the ceiling. A canopy, four-poster bed sat in the far corner of the room, parallel to the oak door. Pure white, the drapes were created from the finest silks, and they barely made any noise as they fluttered in the wind. The ceiling itself was painted with the different gods and angels who watched over and protected the kingdom. A final couple of accessories polished off the look: a large dresser, an armoire, a stationary desk, and a full-length mirror were scattered about the room. Even though it was considered common, this room was still far more grandiose than the one John had at home.

Once he settled in, he changed into his first outfit for the night – a royal blue with gold embellishments. After receiving the invitation, John's mother frantically summoned the best tailors and seamstresses in their land in order to dress John in proper attire to ensure that he would look impressive. His short but firm stature made it difficult for the creation of a nice suit that would ensure he looked proportional, especially in his trousers. His mother insisted that he dressed in a shade of blue every night, as the rich colours always made his eyes sparkle and it would be easier for someone to search out a colour than a masked man.

As he straightened himself out, he heard a soft rapping on his door. It must be his assigned servant. He quickly picked up his matching mask, covered in gold dust with very small sapphires attached to it, and placed it over his face. Although it only covered from his nose to his eyebrows, John was assured that would be enough to keep his identity secret.

Opening the door, he found a woman on the other side. She curtsied. "My name is Molly Hooper, my lord, and I will be your personal servant this week. I will be available to take you to and from events as well as provide you with any assistance you should need. I have been sworn to secrecy about your identity, and I will refer to you as 'Lord John' or 'my lord' from here forth. As you should know, we call everyone here by 'lord' or 'lady' in order to avoid recognition or acknowledgement of power via proper titles," she explained. "I have also been sworn to secrecy about anything I might happen to know about other people's identities. Any bribery will be reported directly to the king, and you will be escorted from the premises immediately."

John knew already that he was going to love having her as his servant. She didn't seem the type who would try to force herself upon him, as some had before, and would be loyal and dutiful. If it all went well, John might even be able to purchase her in the end. He would have to make some key alliances, though, in order to be able to afford such a luxury.

"Pleased to meet you, Molly. I am, as you know, Lord John Watson," John answered quietly. He loathed his title. Never once in his life had he felt like a proper lord. In fact, only the servants ever treated him as nobility. Harry was considered – until recently – the only important offspring since he was the eldest. This also meant that he received all of the attention and education. Unfortunately, John wasn't as versed in proper manners, and he was reprimanded time and time again for being "impolite." Whenever he tried to change his behaviour, he always managed to get something else wrong. He eventually began to shy away from social gatherings in order to avoid further humiliation. However, he had to show confidence and poise now, and thus, he would have to proudly use his title of 'lord.'

Curtsying again, Molly nodded. "It is almost time for the masquerade, sir. I am to escort you to the Great Hall. Whenever you wish to return to your room, please inform any servant that you require me. I shall come at once and guide you back to your room."

John wasn't a fool. It was a precaution. Even though it was easy to get lost in the hallways of an unfamiliar palace, the servants ensured that nobles didn't start wandering about. The king's room would be hidden amongst the rest, indiscernible from the outside, but if they could find other private chambers – the personal living room or library, for instance – they would have a better chance of locating the king. And then there were, of course, the possible assassinations that would be thwarted.

Silently, Molly led John through the halls, each one winding and branching off down several corridors. Tapestries hung from the stone walls, covering them with reds, golds, blues, beiges, and browns. He recognized famous battles, treaty meetings, and the crowning of several kings in the last centuries. As he neared the Great Hall, the tapestries started to change and show the history of the world – the creation of each God and Goddess, the stories of their victories as well as their losses, and the founding of the royal family. Honestly, John wanted to stop for hours just to look at each one and see all the work and effort placed into making them. It seemed dishonourable to walk by them as if they were nothing more than stones and mortar.

As they approached the Great Hall, two servants stepped forward and opened the large doors. John was overwhelmed immediately. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling in rows of three for as far as he could see. The walls were probably originally golden, but it was hard to tell with all of the stunning artwork that crept up and onto the ceiling. Once again, John felt the urge to just stand next to a wall and examine each and every painting. However, a majority of the nobility had already arrived, and they were starting to mingle with one another. After thanking his servant, John braced himself and headed into the crowd.

Trying to start a conversation was the hardest part, his instructor had told him. If John couldn't interest someone immediately, there was no hope of forming an alliance. John always found it difficult to start conversations. Usually, it required a quick wit, which John had, but he always got tongue-tied due to nerves. The other option was to flaunt his status, and John never felt comfortable with that. Not that he had much of a status to begin with, considering whom he was around.

He glanced around the room, examining the different costumes. The elaboration of some costumes was remarkable and put John's entirely to shame. Most women had gems, lace, and symbols for the gods sewn into their dresses. The more poufy the dress, the more funds the woman had, and he doubted that many of the women here could dance with a partner tonight. As he walked by, he overheard one woman comment that her dress was dusted with 24 karat gold around her waist. Meanwhile, the men were all in finely tailored suits, most of them in bright colours – such as yellows and oranges – in order to attract attention. Their masks were generally more elaborate than the women's, though. One man John noticed had a rainbow of gems on his mask that extended from the inside to out in a circular pattern. That mask was probably worth more than all of John's suits combined.

Searching through the crowd, John tried to find someone who wasn't already engrossed in a conversation. He locked onto one woman who was standing alone in the middle of the room and headed towards her. Standing tall, she was blindingly bright in her all white dress. Splashes of crimson and rubies accented her outfit, reminding John far too much of blood. Her mask was solid crimson and studded in rubies. It covered her whole face, save for her eyes, which bore deep into John's flesh as he approached.

"Hello, my lady!" John greeted cheerfully, flashing a smile.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Trust me, darling, when you have enough wealth to speak to me, you'll know." With that, she walked away.

John felt stung. He forced himself to take in a deep breath and brush off the rejection. She would just one of many, after all. Turning around, he swallowed hard. He found another person – a man this time – but only managed a greeting before someone else walked over and took that person's attention away from him. Without saying a word, John walked away and tried to join in a different conversation only to find that he had nothing to say on the topic. He walked around the room slowly, listening for anything he could relate to. Naturally, most of them were speaking of politics. Facts and figures. Statistics and numbers. Nothing that John felt comfortable discussing, given his educational background.

Frustrated, John gave up and stalked out to one of the empty balconies. He leaned against the railing and let out a long sigh before staring out at the gardens below. The moon was bright enough to reveal the neatly combed hedges and iridescent colours of the flowers. As his eyes began to wander, he mind wondered, too. If he didn't make proper alliances, his family would once again label him as the failure. It would merely confirm that he couldn't take his brother's place, vacated though it was. He was already the laughingstock of the family. Now, it would just be worse. Taking in a deep breath, John closed his eyes. He needed to relax for but a moment before trying again.

"Getting stuffy in there for you as well?" someone inquired. Jumping, John spun on his heels. Behind him stood a man in a white outfit with black embroidery. A rose in his front jacket pocket gave the only splash of colour, but that hardly mattered in comparison to his mask. It was half black and half white. Although John was certain that white sapphires made up one side, he had no idea what could possibly cause the other. The man laughed. "Did I frighten you?"

John offered a smile in return. "A bit," he conceded. Holding out his hand, he continued, "John."

"Richard. It's a pleasure, John," the man responded, shaking John's hand briefly. "I already feel overwhelmed in there. I cannot imagine another six nights of it."

Grinning, John responded, "Yes, well, I believe it would be incredibly unfair for us to waltz up to the king and declare, 'Your Majesty, you simply must choose a betrothed immediately for we cannot possibly imagine conversing like this for another six nights. Choose wisely, though, good luck, and long live the king!'"

Richard laughed as he heard this. "If we could find the king in that gathering."

"Gathering, really? You'd call that a gathering?" John jested. "I would attest that a horde would be a better description."

Grinning widely, Richard nodded. "A 'horde' is a perfect description of them, actually. A horde of nobles."

"I think we should make it official in the language," John responded with a laugh. "We'll inform the king about it as well. But only after we force him to decide to whom he will marry, of course."

"Of course." Richard smiled at John fondly before looking out at the gardens. "They're beautiful, aren't they?" he inquired, seeming to lose himself for a moment.

Nodding in agreement, John looked out as well. "I was just admiring them when you arrived."

"Admiring the garden with your eyes closed? I must admit that I am quite jealous of your ability to view a garden through your eyelids."

John flushed in humiliation, having been caught in his lie. "I was smelling its aroma," he stated, not willing to concede.

Closing his eyes, Richard took in a deep breath. "I don't smell anything."

"Of course you don't. My family is notorious for their heightened senses," John remarked jokingly.

Richard smiled. "Ah, the first hint to discover your last name before the sixth night. I do love a good challenge… So, a family who is notorious for their heightened senses." He paused for a moment as he thought. "I didn't know sommeliers could become so powerful and rich!"

"Ah, yes, you caught me. John Sommelier at your service," John responded sarcastically before giving a mock bow. "Might I suggest the decadent King's '09 brew, sire?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Richard answered graciously.

Suddenly, there was a call for dinner within. Surprised, John wondered how long the chefs prepared food in order to feed so many people. It wasn't as if he expected for them to starve for a week, but he thought perhaps they would have more personal meals. Meals requested by and sent to each room. Something that might give the chefs a chance to breathe.

"Shall we?" Richard inquired, cutting into John's thoughts. John responded with a confused look. "I'm afraid I'm quite unaccompanied here, and you seem to be without companions as well. I figured we might as well be solitary together."

"It would be my pleasure." With that, John headed into the dining hall with Richard. Tables upon tables were lined up, and Richard brought him to one in the far, back-right corner. Sitting together at one end, they waited patiently for their food to arrive. Once the table was entirely served, they picked up their utensils and began to eat.

"Not as good as what I was expecting from the royal palace," Richard noted with a slight disappointment in his voice.

Immediately, John became paranoid. Such talk was fine for an empty balcony, but they were now seated with other people. People who might be the king. Or, worse still, people who might report them in order to gain favour with the king. "Well, they cannot serve the gold-encrusted goose for obvious reasons," he joked quietly.

"Out of season?" Richard suggested with a grin.

John couldn't help but laugh in return. As they turned back to their food, he listened to the idle chatter happening around them. Everyone seated at the table were far more serious whilst he and Richard were trying their best to just have a good laugh. They were most likely forging deals and alliances and negotiating with one another. John's relationship with Richard seemed superfluous by comparison. Once again, John worried that he would disappoint his family. He wasn't without his flaws, and social interaction had always been difficult for him.

"John?" Richard called out. "Are you alright?"

Sucking in a deep breath, John looked over. "Yes. My apologies. I was just…" He let his voice trail, not even certain how he could start explaining his thought process.

"Getting caught up in what you're supposed to be doing?" Richard inquired.

John flushed slightly. "Yes…" he admitted.

Leaning back, Richard gauged John for a long moment. "You shouldn't feel so guilty, you know," he finally stated. "All of these people are jumping the gun. They're so confident in themselves – in their ability to perceive the truth – that they are going into deals blind. All they want is to forge as many alliances as possible. But it's not the quantity of alliances – although having more does help than having less – but the quality. Take, for instance, you and me." John tilted his head in interest. "Instead of just jumping into the gritty part of business, we have been taking the time to get to know one another on a different level. I know now that you have a wonderful sense of humour that matches my own, but you're also much more self-conscious of your surroundings and potential threats. Even so, you're still willing to play along, although you're more cautious than I. Now, what do you think those people know about each other?"

John paused a moment and looked at the people surrounding him. All masked. All only going by first names. They weren't supposed to divulge intimate details about their homelands as it could give away who they were. "So how do they even start forming alliances like this?" John inquired, realising that the people knew next to nothing about the others.

Shrugging, Richard answered, "That's the issue. Taking your time is key with most alliances. You could have twenty people with whom you have aligned yourself. However, if you cannot keep in contact with all twenty of them consistently, you'll lose them. And then what if two of those families turned against each other and each demanded that you choose a side? Well, if you met them both here and hardly know either one of them, you might very well make the wrong decision since you would most likely base it on political and financial standing instead of personality." Richard glanced back out at the table. "That's what this whole ball was set up to destroy – favouritism based on perceived superiority. Unfortunately, that seems to have fallen to the wayside."

"Times are changing. Or so they say," John responded with a nod.

Richard looked at him solemnly. "The question is, though, if it's for the better."

John nodded, sobered by the discussion. After a few moments, he forced a smile to his face. "So what you're telling me is that we're not jumping into bed together on the first night. What are you? A three-night kind of bloke?"

"Well, I have to ensure that you are of a good character. Someone I could take back to Mother," Richard replied, chuckling. "I require at least four nights before even thinking about committing."

Mockingly incredulous, John echoed back, "Four nights?" He couldn't keep himself from grinning. "You are really going to make me work for it, aren't you? Woo you and convince you that my intentions are pure."

"You can never be too careful nowadays," Richard told him matter-of-factly. "There are scoundrels who would take advantage of someone as helpless and innocent as myself."

John fought the instinct to roll his eyes. Once again, they relapsed into comfortable silence, each of them eating slowly. Honestly, John felt better about his situation now. He didn't think he was wasting his time anymore, especially since Richard made such good points. Besides, he was forging an alliance with Richard – whoever he was – which was something, given that Richard was clearly far more superior than John. Quality over quantity indeed.

Looking back over at Richard, John caught sight of his rose once more. "That's a nice touch you added," he complimented, motioning towards the flower.

"Already trying to woo me, Mr Sommelier?" Richard teased.

"I should have known you were too sharp for such blatant compliments." Then he looked back at it. "But I mean it. From what I can tell, and given my years of fashion experience," he added sarcastically before continuing honestly, "you would look good in red."

Richard paused for a moment, examining John carefully. Once he realised John was being genuine about his final comment, he smiled. "Well, thank you very much. And now is my opportunity to say that blue is a flattering colour on you, although I cannot say this with the confidence of a fashion expert such as yourself."

John smiled at that. "Well, we all can't be both sommeliers and fashion experts. Don't feel too poorly about your obvious lack in education."

"I want you to be my first dance tomorrow," Richard stated all of a sudden.

Surprised, John responded, "Very well." It was an honour to be asked to be someone's first dance – he recalled his instructor noting – as it meant that Richard wanted to spend the entirety of tomorrow night with him as well. Never before had John been asked to be a first dance.

"Meet me out on the balcony where we met tonight," Richard ordered gently. "It'll be easier to find you then."

Nodding, John replied, "I will be there, but will you recognize me in a new outfit?"

"Undoubtedly," Richard informed him before rising from his seat. "Unfortunately, I must leave you. May you have a fair night, John."

"May you have a fair night, Richard," John responded with a nod.

As soon as Richard had disappeared from sight, John realized the error in his judgement. Most new connections were made at the beginning of the night. By the time they were done dancing, it would be too late for John to make any new associates, as they will have all already found someone to talk to. Richard would monopolize John if he continued to meet him at the beginning of the night.

"It's the quality of alliance, not quantity," John reminded himself as he rose from the table.

He didn't even attempt to meet someone new that evening. After his jackpot with Richard, he knew that he had used up all of his luck. Instead, he summoned Molly and headed straight back to his room for the night. At least he would see Richard tomorrow. His heart raced at the thought. Things were going better than expected. Not only that, but he still had plenty of time to meet new people. He shouldn't worry about everything so much, especially when it's just the first night. And Richard wanted to see him again. That's what was important.

Smiling to himself, John slid underneath the duvet and let out a groan as he sank into the mattress. It was tenfold more comfortable than his mattress at home. At this rate, he wouldn't want to leave the king's palace. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, his heart still beating a bit irregularly as he waited for tomorrow to come.


	2. The Second Night

Sucking in a deep breath, John desperately wanted to calm his nerves. He should have tried to start at least one conversation, even if he was just listening to someone. After all, it would have declared his independence from Richard. Show that he could form other alliances as well. That he hadn't been waiting all day to see Richard again. That he was able to get Richard out of his head. However, he couldn't help but walk straight to the balcony. Drumming his fingers against the railing, John felt his stomach flip and flop. What if Richard stood him up? What if he found someone more interesting? Someone he got along better with? For the umpteenth time, John thought he should have tried to talk to _someone_ instead of being at Richard's beck and call.

John tugged at his sleeve before looking down to examine his outfit once more. Tonight, he was wearing an ocean blue and white suit. According to his mother, the blue complimented his eye colour and the white contrasted the tanned tone of his skin to serve as a proper highlight. Even so, John knew that his mother wanted white to be the secondary colour so lace could be used in the outfit. Lace marked wealth, and the Watson family desperately needed to ensure that everyone knew that they were still affluent. What they could not know, though, was that she used almost all of their spare money on John's new outfits.

"Lovely mask," someone commented.

Turning, John found himself face-to-face with a gentleman of far higher standing. Gold embellished every aspect of his purple and lace outfit. Immediately, John felt intimidated. This gentleman appeared that he had been groomed all his life to be the king himself. Perhaps he was! But even if he were not, this nobleman would be on the top of any guest list. He was probably in the running for the king's hand in marriage, too, should he happen not to be him.

"Thank you," John replied after a moment's hesitation. He tried to remember his proper manners, and he shifted through pre-practiced responses before landing on one. "I dare say that you look far more dashing."

"And he comes with plumage," Richard stated, stalking across the balcony. He was in full black tonight with red accents. With his cape fluttering behind him, Richard reminded John of Death incarnate, leaving destruction in his wake. Icily, he greeted, "Mycroft."

"I thought you would like them," Mycroft sneered, motioning to the large, gold-dusted peacock feathers that were protruding from his mask.

Scoffing, Richard replied, "You look absolutely ridiculous."

"What do you think, John?" Mycroft inquired.

Horrified, John found himself caught in a situation that could have come straight out of one of his nightmares. He glanced between Richard and Mycroft, trying to rapidly figure out what he should do. Richard was actively forming an alliance with him, but Mycroft seemed to have more influence and power. He could not afford to anger either man. "W-well, I… I…"

"Honestly, Richard, are you participating in charity work now?" Mycroft cut in. "Or have you merely decided to take advantage of the uneducated?"

Unable to believe what he just heard, John echoed, "Uneducated?"

"Yes. Your tutelage in social matters is deficient, especially for a man of noble blood. First of all, you never say someone _looks_ more dashing. You say they _are_ more dashing. Looking defines a temporary state of being, and you're scarcely providing a compliment when you are implying that the person is only sometimes dashing," Mycroft rebuked.

John felt like an admonished schoolchild. Swallowing hard, he felt his face redden with humiliation. How was he supposed to be redeeming his family's name when he couldn't even properly compliment someone? Immediately, he widened his eyes as he felt them start to heat up. He could _not_ allow himself to even let one tear drop. It would show weakness, and he wouldn't give Mycroft the satisfaction. Sucking in a deep breath, he focused on breathing deeply and evenly.

"You are, of course, assuming that he misspoke," Richard pointed out as he stepped in front of John. "I happen to believe that he didn't. You might look dashing tonight, but your character is far from it. In fact, he paid you as much of a compliment as humanly possible."

Shocked, John stared blankly at the back of Richard's head. Such frank mannerisms only existed in novels. In real life, one had to be eloquent and speak through subtext. Part of him wondered how deep their animosity ran. When it began. How it started. What was blatantly clear, though, was that Richard did not care for Mycroft at all.

Mycroft was on the verge of balking, his eyes wide and his mouth partially open. "You might want to be careful with what you say as well, _Richard_."

Instantly, Richard tensed. "Do you hear that?" John instinctively began to listen for anything peculiar, assuming Richard heard something abnormal. "It sounds like the orchestra is preparing its first song. Since I requested John to be my first dance, we better be off." With that, Richard turned and offered his elbow. "Let's go."

John allowed Richard to escort him back into the ballroom. "I take it you know Mycroft personally."

"He and I have never gotten along," Richard stated as he led John onto the dance floor. "His mother always thought that no rules ever applied to them. She gave her sons eccentric names as a silent defiance to situations such as this."

"Sons?"

Richard nodded before pulling John in close to him. Resting a hand on John's hip, he continued, "Sherlock is the younger one's name. He cannot be bothered to come to societal proceedings. He inherited his mother's belief that he is above it all. Too intelligent to mingle with the ordinary, mundane populace even if they happened to have a plethora of money."

"How clever of her, though," John commented as he situated himself so Richard could lead the dance. Richard tilted his head slightly. "To name her children such unique names. It defies the foremost purpose of this whole masquerade."

"Ah. Yes, indeed. She is a remarkably clever woman." The orchestra began the first piece, and he guided John through the steps of the dance. "Now, I have a serious question for you."

"To break the light atmosphere we've had this whole time?" John inquired sarcastically, relaxing as he fell into the familiar movement and flow of the dance.

Richard smiled. "You suffer from a mild form of social anxiety," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I beg your pardon?" John inquired, stumbling. He had never heard it said so candidly before. Most people just politely ignored the fact that he wasn't as comfortable in social situations as most were. And he honestly preferred it that way. It was far less embarrassing for him.

"I apologise for startling you like that," Richard offered as he helped John find his rhythm again. "I'm not in the habit of circumventing my thoughts and feelings."

Shaking his head, John answered, "No, it's fine. I was just caught off-guard."

"But it is correct."

John pressed his lips together. "I suppose. I've never heard it stated that way before, but it would be accurate."

Suddenly, Richard redirected their movement, and John caught a glimpse of a couple whirling pass them, just inches away from running into them. "You flushed when Mycroft castigated you. Blotched cheeks, controlled breathing, wide eyes. You've been trained on how to control your emotions and keep yourself from breaking down. Meaning you grew up with the anxiety."

John frowned and averted his eyes. "I have an older brother, you see. Or, at least, I did. He always handled social relations with other nobles, so my parents never overly worried about my social etiquette education. It was only recently that I have taken the burden of carrying my family name."

"Which happens to be?" Richard pressed.

Laughing, John answered, "A valiant attempt."

The song started to slow down, and Richard drew him in closer. "Do you believe in retribution, John?"

"As in an eye for an eye?" John clarified.

"Exactly."

Pausing a moment, John focused solely on the movement of their bodies. The fixed tempo. The ebb and flow of their strides. How their legs stepped in sync with one another. How their torsos slotted seamlessly together. How they became one as they glided across the dance floor. With his mind clear, he could finally ponder on Richard's question. "I was raised to believe that every action has a reaction. Ever reaction has consequences. Some consequences require for an eye to be taken. Others do not."

Richard hummed in acknowledgement. "What if I told you I would be willing to sever any alliance left with Mycroft and, in return, forge a stronger one with you?"

"Why, Richard, I thought you planned to wait at least three more nights before making such promises!" John teasingly chastised, not entirely sure how else to react to the situation.

Smiling, Richard nodded. "Indeed. I usually do. However, I am a three night person when forming an strictly political alliance."

John nearly choked on air when he heard the insinuation. If nothing else, at least the song ended before he tripped over his own feet again. Staring up at Richard, John released him before pulling back. "You are in a jesting mood, I see," he said guardedly.

"Not in the least," Richard replied, clearly offended by the suggestion.

John swallowed hard. "Then you are looking to…"

"Court you."

The words rang in John's ears, and he had to remind himself to _breathe_. "You wish to court me."

"To be honest, I thought I made my intentions apparent when I asked to be your first dance," Richard said. The orchestra began to ready themselves for the next piece. Without saying a word, Richard took John back into his arms and started them through the slow dance, ensuring that their bodies were pressed as close to one another as possible. "I know it seems fast, but we don't have much time together before we must return home. Then we will have to start juggling our responsibilities as well, and our time to converse and visit will be reduced significantly. Besides, if the king is supposed to locate his future spouse in six nights, why can't we do the same?"

John didn't miss a beat. "I suppose there is no reason we couldn't, but it does help that it isn't required of us."

"Don't look so horrified, John. I'm not asking you to marry me this very moment. I'm merely stating my intention to pursue you." He paused, and realisation suddenly washed over him. "Oh," he whispered, "you're hesitant because you still have a chance of meeting the king and wooing him."

"You caught me," John answered sarcastically, insulted. "We both know the king is never going to notice someone like me. Why would he when he has men dressed as birds and women in gowns that cost more than all my property?"

Richard scoffed. "You undersell yourself. Where they have money, you have morals. Where they have pride, you have mercy. And where they have propriety, you have humour. You're a diamond in the rough, John."

"I'm a pebble in a pile of jewels, Richard," John counted, starting to get flustered. "But the fact of the matter is that I am _not_ holding back on you because I believe that I will suddenly be whisked off my feet by the king. This isn't a fairy-tale after all." He paused a moment before grinning mischievously. "Besides, we still need to inform him that he simply has to marry someone so we can no longer be subjected to such tedious rituals."

Richard smiled. "Well, you could make it easier if you showed some interest in him. Then we could demand for him to declare you his fiancé and end this here and now."

"Yes, that will go over well. If you would be so kind, could you possibly recommend me to him? I'm sure it will mean a lot, coming from the man who said merely five minutes ago that he wanted to woo me," John teased.

"Do you object to my intention to court you then?"

Scoffing, John responded, "Object? Only a colossal dimwit would refuse you."

"I like to think the same," Richard jested before twirling John. "You accept then. I want to hear those words come from your mouth."

"I both acknowledge and accept your advances."

Instantly, Richard relaxed and began to dance them towards the balcony. "You have no idea what it means to me to hear that."

"So what is it then?" John inquired as they stepped off the dance floor.

"What is what?"

John automatically headed towards their balcony. "The catch. What is the catch? Do you require a financial assistant? Are you secretly not of noble blood? Did your parents send you here with the sole purpose of marrying, and you will be disowned if you fail to return with a fiancé?"

Laughing, Richard shook his head. "No, no, none of that. Bastard son, you see. I must marry noble blood in order to inherit my father's wealth."

"I'm just a means to an end then. I should have known!" John sighed light-heartedly. "You were too good to be true."

Richard shrugged. "If it helps, I am worth a pretty penny."

"Yes, well, there _is_ at least that."

For a long moment, they stood at the railing and stared out at the garden. John felt at peace. Honestly, he thought that the first time he was ever courted would be stressful for him. He figured that he would become obsessed with his manners – with what he said and how he looked. However, Richard was different. John knew that he didn't have to put on airs. Obviously, Richard wasn't looking for a flawless husband. He just wanted to get to know John more. Smiling, John closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

"I feel the same way," Richard confessed before pressing their shoulders together. John appreciated the physical contact. "Deep breaths. Everything's going to be completely fine."

"I know it will be," John answered. "I'm just trying to comprehend this whole situation."

Richard hummed in agreement. "I understand. I wasn't expecting for you to happen either, you know."

"My sincerest apologies for taking you by surprise then," John joked.

Chuckling, Richard replied, "As you should be! It's rude to just show up unannounced."

"Now, now. I was sent an invitation, and I confirmed my attendance!"

"Oh, so it's my fault now, is it?" Richard retorted.

John grinned. "Always. You'll learn quickly enough that I am never at fault."

Clearly amused, Richard laughed mockingly. "And you will discover that I am more than willing to point out exactly when you are wrong."

"Which will never happen because, as I already said, I am never wrong," John countered.

Richard grinned before playfully nudging John with his shoulder. "Will you be my first dance again tomorrow?"

"Yes, o-" John started to say before he caught himself. "Actually, I have a concern to address."

"Concern?" Richard echoed, looking over in interest. "In regards to me?"

Nodding, John explained, "I'm afraid you might monopolise my time here."

"Quality over quantity," Richard reminded him.

"You're avoiding the subject," John pointed out. "I'm legitimately troubled by this. Do not just laugh about it as if it isn't important. It is. To me, at least."

Richard pressed his lips together. "And your fears are not unfounded. I am, indeed, trying to monopolise your time. Why wouldn't I? I made it clear of my romantic inclinations towards you, and the last thing I need is for another person to sweep you off your feet."

"You make it sound as if I have suitors who are lining up at the door for me. But look around this balcony, and who else do you see?" John responded, motioning to the empty space around them. "I only have you, Richard, and I'm perfectly happy with that. But I cannot leave here with merely one alliance, no matter how fantastic it might be. My mother would skin me alive."

Obviously upset, Richard turned away. "I understand. So you do not want to be my first dance."

"I _do_, but I also want to be able to meet other people. Preferably other people whom you actually like," John explained, flustered. "I'm not good with interacting with others, I know, but I have to at least try."

"What if I introduce you to some people and help you through the conversation?" Richard inquired, looking over at him. "Would you be my first dance then?"

Nodding enthusiastically, John exclaimed, "That would be perfect!"

Richard looked back over at John and smiled. "Good," he murmured. "Then that's what we'll do. I'll meet you here and then take you inside to meet a few people. And then… we'll dance."

"Agreed," John responded, still grinning. "Thank you for understanding."

Tentatively, Richard placed a hand on John's shoulder. "Understand that I'm only doing this for you. If it were up to me, I would keep you all to myself."

John chuckled. "How sacrificial of you."

"I don't think you understand how much I cherish your companionship."

"Far more than you should, I believe, having only known me for one day," John stated, appreciating the touch.

Richard gave John's shoulder a soft squeeze. "Hardly."

John couldn't stop himself from smiling as he heard that. Never before had someone spoken so candidly with him. For most of his life, he had heard that he wasn't good enough. He wasn't as outgoing as his brother or spoke well like his brother or had an air of nobility surrounding him. According to his father, he should have been born to a broke farmer. Richard was a breath of fresh air – someone who comforted him in a way that he had secretly needed since he was a boy. Perhaps one day, he would sincerely believe everything Richard said. Maybe it would override what he had been told most of his life. Until then, he would just have to take Richard's word for it.


	3. The Third Night

John frantically shuffled through his outfits, trying to find the perfect one to wear tonight. Eventually, he pulled up a sky blue suit with royal purple accents and decided that this would be it. The blue would compliment his eyes, but the purple might mark him as higher nobility than what he was. Not only that, but the matching mask had some gems and lace, which could also bolster his financial status beyond what it actually was. Oh, God, he could already tell now that he was going to make an idiot of himself. Richard was probably going to introduce him to noblemen of high standing, people who would have no interest in someone like John. Just as he was about to panic and back down, he sucked in a deep breath. Tonight would be fine. Richard would help him through everything. After all, that's what he had promised the night before.

Pulling up his trousers, John examined himself in the mirror. Honestly, he was curious as to what exactly Richard saw in him. It wasn't fortune, to be sure. Even in his most regal outfit, John still wouldn't look like a proper nobleman. As that woman – the Woman, really – had proven his first night, people could still tell his financial status by looking at him. What did Richard see then? John was aesthetically pleasing, he would admit, but Richard could hardly know that, being unable to see his face. Maybe it was the fact that they clicked together so well.

Three raps on his door caused him to rip out of his reverie. "Lord John?" Molly called out from the other side.

"One moment!" John exclaimed, tugging on his vest and then jacket. He shoved his handkerchief into the front pocket before grabbing his mask, which would cover his eyes and forehead. Most of it was covered in what looks like glitter. In fact, when John first saw it, he objected profusely to it, but his mother insisted that it was gem dust and that the other nobles would know it. After all, she said, they were far more educated than John on such matters. He ripped open the door and forced a smile to his face. "Ready."

"Are you sure, my lord? I could give you a few more minutes if you require them," Molly responded.

John's stomach knotted at the idea. He had been anxious all day, and waiting longer wasn't going to do anything for him. "No, I'm positive. Let us be off."

Nodding, Molly escorted him down to the gardens. He was surprised but pleased by the fact that they were outside. Being outside gave them much needed fresh air, and the gardens were far vaster than the ballroom they had been in the nights before. However, this also caused some nervousness. How were he and Richard supposed to find one another in the gardens?

Molly went over to a gazebo set up for the servants, and John started into the crowd. He glanced about, not knowing what to look for, and started feeling queasy. Sucking in a deep breath, he knew he would have to find something to distract himself with. He cautiously approached a group of four speaking, hoping to possibly sidle into the conversation. Suddenly, he made eye contact from the Woman from the first night. She was just as regal as ever, her pearls and lace marking her as the highest of nobility. Even so, that splash of crimson she had on the bottom of her dress threw John off a bit. It reminded him far too much of blood.

"Oh, darling, trust me, you're still not-" she began to say.

"John!" Richard exclaimed, smiling. "You found me! I was just telling Irene, Sebastian, and Michael here about you."

The Woman – Irene, he now knew – stared at him, clearly baffled. "You mean to tell me that _he-_?" she started to ask.

Once more, Richard cut her off. "I was worried about you. It was only now that I realised I didn't tell you I would look like an inferno today. Do you like it?" With that, he turned so John could see his cape flutter and a barrage of oranges, yellows, and reds ripple from it. It did, indeed, look like a fire, and John once more became conscious of his appearance.

"It's stunning," John replied with a smile. "Must have taken quite some time and effort to make. Kudos to your seamstress."

Richard beamed. "I'll make sure to relay your gratitude. Now, introductions! As I said before, this is Irene, Sebastian, and Michael. I met them the first night after speaking to you. Everyone, this is John, about whom I was telling you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," John murmured.

Standing close to him, Richard continued, "We were talking about the sudden spike in unemployment the kingdom has been experiencing lately. Irene remains relatively unconcerned, but Sebastian and I are. What do you think?"

John was relieved that Richard was guiding him as he promised, but he wasn't sure that this was the topic he would have chosen. "I think the economy fluctuates. It has to in order to survive. Even if we remained in a constant state of increase, prices would rise as well." He paused a moment before quickly adding, "I don't mean to say that we shouldn't do anything about it!"

Richard nodded approvingly, and John took that as a positive sign. "How do you think we should go about that?" he coaxed.

"Helping out the working class. Either reducing taxes on produce to make them cheaper or offering to pay them more for their work," John suggested.

Irene scoffed as she heard that. "Give them too much, and they'll be expecting at least that for the rest of their lives! Prices will inflate instead of deflate, and when we try to raise them again, they'll riot."

"I-I'm not saying give them the world, but we have to at least help them!" John objected.

Richard quickly intervened, "Sebastian, you said the last time that we talked you once were in the military?"

"Correct," Sebastian replied noncommittally. "Spent plenty of time in it as well."

Irene offered, "Must have been remarkably boring. The kingdom hasn't had a war in ages."

Shifting uncomfortably, Sebastian hesitated. John's interest was immediately piqued. Sebastian was probably the first born of his family, as first-born children of nobles were always forced into at least one year of military service in order to prove their commitment to the betterment of the kingdom. From Sebastian's answer, he spent more than one year, which meant he had a perchance for the military lifestyle… or that he had to do something important. As far as the public knew, there was neither a war nor the threat of one. And yet Sebastian hesitated, making John wonder what he was hiding.

"It was interesting enough, and I am always happy to serve my king," he finally responded. "Besides, it's not as if we are paid to do nothing." He then turned back to John. "Were you ever forced into the army?"

John shook his head. "I have an older brother," he explained.

"Is he here?" Sebastian inquired.

Trying not to grimace, John answered, "No. I'm the representative for my family." The last thing they needed to know was why John was there instead, so he quickly thought to change the subject. "Richard? Did you serve in the army?"

"Alas, I did not," Richard responded vaguely before perking up. "Ah, music! I do believe you promised me the first dance, John."

John was disheartened to hear the orchestra already preparing the first song. It seemed that he was close to finding a solid footing with Sebastian. "Of course," he replied.

"I would be honoured to take the second dance," Sebastian offered.

Surprised, John nodded eagerly. "Of course."

Richard quickly directed John towards the gazebo set up for their dance floor. "I knew I should have just kept you to myself," he murmured to John.

"One dance does not mean that he wishes to court me. Besides, we met not even an hour ago!"

Scoffing, Richard responded, "It took me less time than that to decide that I wanted to be with you." With that, they stepped onto the dance floor.

"He's probably looking to make an alliance with me," John soothed before taking lead in the dance.

"That better be the only think he's looking for," Richard stated, following along perfectly.

John chuckled. "If you would like, the moment he begins to make his – what you would consider 'true' – intentions towards me clear, I will tell him that you have already started courting me."

"And that he has no chance of stealing you from me," Richard amended.

Grinning, John teased, "I don't know. He does have those years of military experience. Definitely stronger than you. Might be a bit of a-"

Richard gasped. "I cannot believe that you rank his corporeal status higher than mine!"

John dipped Richard. "There are certain appeals for each body type."

"But mine is far superior," Richard stated before popping back up and taking over the dance. "In case you didn't notice."

Laughing, John answered teasingly, "Oh, I noticed." He wanted to make sure that Richard understood there was no real threat. "You're definitely going to be the jealous type then?"

"And you're going to be the flirt," Richard accused with a grin.

John pretended to toss his hair. "I cannot help the fact that I'm the most attractive person in this room," he joked.

Richard laughed heartily. "No, I suppose you cannot. But bless you for being so humble about it when others would let it go to their heads."

Giggling, John tried to stifle his laughter as they continued to dance. It was nice. He didn't have to think too much whenever they were together like this, and he was always so relaxed. If he had to choose one way to live the rest of his life, he knew that dancing with Richard wouldn't be a bad choice. At least then he would always be happy and have company.

As the song came to a close, Richard paused for a moment afterwards and refused to move. "You will find me after the dance?" he pressed.

Nodding, John said, "Naturally. Remain close."

"I will."

With that, Richard pulled away, and Sebastian approached him. "Is he your fiancé?" he inquired as he positioned himself to take lead in the dance.

"No. He's still in the process of courting me," John replied before following Sebastian's first steps. "You're quite observant, though."

Sebastian hummed. "It wasn't that hard to spot. The moment I asked for a dance, he became nervous. Has he been monopolising you?"

"Not entirely. I have some fault in the matter. As you might have noticed, I'm not as outgoing as he is. But, as you also might have noticed, he is willing to share for at least one dance."

Chuckling, Sebastian responded, "If that's what you could call it. He has good reason to be concerned, though. Although you might not have the largest fortune, you're good company even despite your nervousness. For some, that will trump any faults you might have."

"Like my financial status?" John snapped.

"Some would consider your financial status undesirable, yes. However, those people are not worth your time. I would like to be, though."

John's eyes widened in surprise. "You wish to form an alliance with me?" he clarified, hoping he had understood correctly and that Richard wasn't right in his fears.

"Indubitably," Sebastian responded. "You're sensible and open-minded, unlike Irene. She might be far richer than you, but I cannot bear to hear another word pass through those lips."

"W-well, of course! I would be honoured to become your ally," John responded, not thinking. "I must talk with Richard after our dance, but I will find you afterwards so we can talk some more."

Sebastian nodded in acknowledgement. "I have no further plans for the night, so merely find me."

John danced through the rest of the song before bowing slightly and heading off to find Richard. He was standing off to the side, talking with Irene. Approaching slowly, John caught the tail end of their conversation.

"- interested in such a slow-witted-" Irene was saying.

"I neither respect nor desire your opinion on this matter," Richard snapped. "If you have an issue with my taste, you can find yourself a new alliance to forge."

Irene balked at him. "You're going to regret ever having spoken to me in such a way!" she retorted before storming off.

John slid in. "You didn't have to do that, you know," he murmured.

"I won't stand for anyone speaking of you in such a horrible manner," Richard replied. "You might take it, but I won't. I will never. People here are so shallow that I could just-!"

Quickly, John cut in, "You're going to cause a scene. Let's take a walk in the garden."

Richard didn't object as John led him into the gardens. Silent, they walked together, eventually going far enough away from the party to only hear the crunching of their footsteps. The garden was so peaceful in the moonlight, and John knew he could stay here for the rest of his life and be content. Sucking in a deep breath, he released it before looking over at Richard.

"I feel better," Richard stated, answering John's unspoken question. "So, Sebastian…"

John heard the hesitation in Richard's speech and quickly finished, "… wants to start an alliance with me."

"Oh, does he now?" Richard inquired, looking over at John. "And I take it that you accepted?"

"I couldn't think of a reason not to," John replied honestly. "He seems to be a genuine gentleman."

Richard hummed. "Seeming doesn't mean that he is one, though."

"You have doubts about his intentions then?" John pressed, wanting to understand Richard's concerns.

"I wouldn't say doubts," Richard replied before hesitating. "Out of anyone I've met, Sebastian is the most trustworthy and honesty. But I meant for future possibilities. I do not mean to wound your feelings but to warn you. Since you are rather naïve to social interactions, it would be easier for someone to take advantage of you, and I would hate for you to be trapped in an undesirable alliance."

John began to closely examine a rose, not wanting to let Richard see just how much his words hurt. "I'm not entirely uneducated," he replied defensively.

"I didn't say that you were, but your elder brother probably received far more training than you did," Richard stated. "You're highly intelligent, John, and with proper training, you'll be fine."

Letting out a bitter laugh, John responded, "But I unfortunately don't have that training before the most important occasion of all, correct?"

"I wouldn't say unfortunate. This situation is stressful no matter who you are. Even I am stressed. But you just have to be more cautious than others," Richard stated.

John turned away from the roses to face Richard. His mask was embroidered with rubies, he just noticed. They glinted and sparkled in the moonlight in an almost playful manner. "Then I should be more cautious about you," he stated.

"Yes, you should," Richard said without a second's hesitation.

Surprised, John stared at him for a long moment. Had Richard been playing him this whole time? No, that would be unlike him. Even so, the answer made John extremely nervous. "I will decline any attempt at securing my first dance for tomorrow," he declared, testing this new ground.

Richard appeared stunned and wounded by the statement but nodded nonetheless. "I will have your second then," he responded softly.

"Then my second dance you may have," he conceded. Honestly, John was unable to take that away from him, especially after seeing that look upon Richard's face. "I will see you tomorrow?"

"That you shall," Richard replied before plucking a rose and placing it into John's jacket pocket. "After all, I plan on earning your trust once more."

John smiled up at him. "You brought this upon yourself, you know," he pointed out. "Had you not been so concerned about keeping me to yourself, I wouldn't have thought twice about letting you so close so quickly."

"I want you to think twice about me," Richard stated. "After all, the chase is half the fun."

John smiled. "Then a chase is what you will receive," he murmured before turning on his heels to re-join the festivities. At least Sebastian might be waiting for him. "May you have a fair night, Richard."

"May you have a fair night, John."


	4. The Fourth Night

John rubbed his temples for what felt like the umpteenth time before he straightened out tonight's tux. It was made of a blue material that would shimmer green when reflecting light, and it was the second most expensive suit in his repertoire due to the rarity of the fabric. His mask, however, wasn't as nice. Painted green, it had some sapphires and small diamonds outlining it. Even so, it would have to do, because he was dressing to impress tonight. His mother always told him that if he dressed well then he would feel more confident in himself. Although he didn't honestly believe that, he needed any help whatsoever after he woke with a pounding headache.

"Lord John?" Molly called out, rapping on his door.

Forcing a smile onto his face, John opened up the door. "Evening," he greeted.

"Sir? Are you feeling well?" Molly inquired, leaning up to examine him closely.

Not wanting to cause a fuss, John nodded. "Do I look unwell?" he pressed, hoping that it wasn't too severe. Tonight was an important night, after all. After tonight, forging new connections would be next to impossible.

Immediately, Molly panicked. "O-of course not, sir!" she exclaimed, almost causing John to grimace. "I didn't mean th-that you looked poorly. I-it's just that – well, I thought perhaps-"

"Deep breaths, Molly. I'm not offended," he soothed, wanting her to quiet down more than anything else.

Molly snapped her mouth shut before curtseying. "Shall we?"

Nodding, John followed her downstairs. Tonight – it seemed – they were going to be located near the lake, which rippled underneath the moonlight. Torches were burning, giving enough light for some people to play croquet while others mingled and chatted. Towards one side, a bonfire was roaring. John wondered if they would be able to roast chestnuts and marshmallows later, and his stomach immediately churned at the thought. Then he noticed a makeshift dance floor had been created, and he hoped he would find the will to dance. However, his headache was slowly going from an ache to a pounding due to the sudden influx of noise.

"John!"

Hearing his name, John turned to find Sebastian approaching him. He looked good in his royal purple suit with complimenting amethyst-covered mask. "Greetings," he called back. "You found me quickly."

"I was keeping an eye out for you. We have much to discuss," he stated before glancing around. "Where's your fiancé?"

"He's not my fiancé," John corrected. "Merely an interested party. And I wouldn't know, as I just arrived."

Sebastian tilted his head slightly. "Did he displease you?"

"What do you mean?" John inquired, blinking.

"Well, I could not help but notice that you speak differently of him today than you did yesterday. I hope my dancing with you did not cause a rift," Sebastian replied, obviously concerned.

John shook his head. "No, no, nothing like the sort. There is no reason for you to be so troubled."

He wanted to go on, but he wasn't sure how much he could trust Sebastian. Many people would use a rift to their favour, making it bigger than it was, and John didn't want to let on just how much was wrong. Last night, he had spent the rest of the festivities in his own mind until he finally gave up and headed back to his room. However, his hopes of sleep wound up futile as he tossed and turned most of the night.

"Very well. If you insist," Sebastian offered, giving John another chance to talk to him.

"I do," John responded, declining graciously. He noticed the orchestra, and he knew he needed to stay away from the loud music. "Would you enjoy partaking in some croquet?"

Sebastian answered, "I was actually going to ask you to dance first. Croquet takes some time to play, and I would hate to allow the disservice of not seeing you dance happen to such a handsome dance floor."

"I would be honoured," John replied with a smile despite his sinking heart. "Besides which, you think it would be easier for us to discuss business whilst whisking me about the dance floor, correct?"

Grinning, Sebastian responded, "That thought might have occurred to me, yes. Many people find dancing relaxing, thus causing for it to help with negotiations."

"And what exactly will we be negotiating, seeing as how I'm not allowed to tell you anything about my property nor you about yours," John inquired, allowing Sebastian to escort him to the dance floor.

Sebastian said, "We don't have to know that to forge an alliance. I merely need to know that you'll back me in future."

"Back you? What? Are you planning on seceding from the kingdom?" John teased.

Laughing, Sebastian noted, "That would be rather bold of me, wouldn't it? No, I merely meant more in a trading sense. We could start there, at least. Forge trading routes from my land to yours, no matter how far away that might be. Think on it for a bit before you reply."

It sounded like a fair enough deal. John wouldn't be politically bound to Sebastian, and his economy could use the boost of trade. Suddenly, the orchestra began to play, and John's headache started pulsating. Sebastian took John into his arms and began to spin him around the dance floor, causing John's head to swim.

"And?" Sebastian pressed.

"S-sou-" John began to answer before his vision went black. He slumped forward, losing his equilibrium, and dropped his full weight onto Sebastian. Luckily, Sebastian was strong enough to hold him up. He felt Sebastian lift him up into his arms and carry him away from the music. He tried to open his eyes only for the light of a torch to blind him, and he snapped them shut again. As Sebastian continued to walk, he became more disoriented.

"John!" a panicked voice called out. Richard, John belatedly realised. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing!" Sebastian retorted. "We were dancing, I offered him a trade alliance, and he fainted."

"You're expecting me to believe that he was so moved by your offer that he just fainted?" Richard snapped back. Something cold pressed against John's bare cheek, and he instinctively tried to pull away from it, curling closer to Sebastian in the process. He let out a soft groan of complaint, just wanting everything to stop. "He's burning up. Can you carry him?"

"Yes, sir," Sebastian replied.

Richard ordered, "Follow me." Then he called out, "And you! You fetch the palace physician!"

The motion began again – the swaying and bouncing. It reminded him of once when he had sailed on the ocean. During one night, the ship was caught in a storm, and John was sick all night long from the tossing and rocking. John felt his stomach flip, and he fought down the need to vomit.

"Is this your room?" Sebastian suddenly inquired.

Richard answered brusquely, "No. His."

John wanted to object. They shouldn't know where he was staying. After all, they might think less of him when they see him in such a plain room – no standing with the king whatsoever. His mouth wouldn't work, though, and he heard the door open. He was promptly carried inside and placed down on his mattress. As soon as he felt that softness underneath him, he felt relieved, knowing he wouldn't be swaying anymore. Even so, he was still too nauseated to even risk opening his eyes.

"Leave," Richard ordered. "I'll have a servant inform you of his condition once I have more information."

"Do you think he's been poisoned?" Sebastian pressed.

"I'm not sure. Find his servant for me, would you? I have some questions to ask her," Richard said.

Sebastian answered, "Of course, sir." With that, footsteps walked away.

John started to lose focus again when he suddenly felt something cold pressed against his forehead. Had he lost his mask? When? Where? He went to reach up and cover his face only for his hand to be caught by another, older hand. Definitely not Richard's.

"How long has he been like this?" an unfamiliar voice called out.

"Fifteen minutes at minimum," Richard responded. "It's unclear as to the full extent, though. I have someone retrieving the servant now."

The stranger hummed, and John felt his shirt get tugged on until cold air hit his chest. "What do you know about him?"

"He's the second son in his family, and this is one of the first – if not _the_ first – events he has attended," Richard stated.

The stranger pressed something that felt like ice against his chest, just above his heart. "If what you say is true, I believe that you no longer need to fret over a possible poisoning."

"Why do you say that?"

Whatever cold thing had been pressed to John's chest abruptly disappeared. "If he's the second child, he wouldn't have been given all of the same vaccinations as his elder brother. He probably encountered a disease most people are immune to here but that he lacks the vaccination for."

"What do we do?" Richard pressed.

"First, we get his fever to break-" the stranger began when suddenly the door burst open. "Ah! You must be the servant girl."

After a moment's hesitation, Molly answered, "Molly, sir. I am his servant."

"Do you know when he began to feel ill?"

Molly replied, "I wish I did, sir. All I know is that he looked rather poorly before we headed down to join the others. He didn't let on that anything was wrong, though."

"And you had all of his food tested, correct?" Richard asked.

"Of course. I could never go against my king's wishes."

Suddenly, John felt hands tugging his clothes off, and he groaned in complaint. "Molly, go draw a lukewarm bath," the stranger stated. Small footsteps scurried off, and John could barely hear the bath turning on. Once he was down to his undergarments, he felt himself being pulled up, and he thought he was going to be sick then and there.

"I've got him," Richard stated, and a new set of hands grabbed John. He was half-dragged, half-carried into the bathroom. "Stop the water."

"But, sir, it's not full-" Molly began to object.

"Stop it!" Richard snapped.

The faucet was closed, and John heard the water begin to splash. He felt his feet lifted by someone else and set into the cold water. John whined in complaint. Honestly, he didn't want to be cold anymore. Everything they put to him was always freezing, and he just wanted to be left alone to suffer.

"Shush, John," Richard chided. Slowly, they both began to lower into the tub.

"Sire, you do not have to be in there with him. You'll ruin that lovely suit of yours," the stranger noted.

Once they were lying down – John resting on top of Richard – he replied, "He's far more important than any suit I could ever own, and I can't buy another of him."

"Very well," the stranger murmured. "I will be back soon to check up on him. I have to go to my study and see if I can figure out what he has. Molly, dear, come with me."

"Yes, sir," Molly answered.

John listened as the two of them walked away. Groaning, he buried his face into Richard's cool neck and grabbed his suit, much like a child would his mother's clothing. "I've got you," Richard soothed. "I know you're trying to stay conscious, but you need to rest. Understand? You need to sleep now."

John let out a noise of objection, but he knew that Richard was right. Gradually, he drifted off to sleep. His dreams were a mixture of nonsense and fears. At one point, Harry came back to be the head of the family, and John was sent into exile. In another, John was a child again, and he met a cat that could talk and turn itself invisible. In the last, though, John could fly, and he wanted to impress Richard only for him to be repulsed by it. John's heart couldn't take the sudden loss, and he dropped out of the sky, plummeting to the ground.

Waking with a jolt, John looked over to see an older gentleman with him. "Good to see you're awake. Your fever just broke." That voice. It was the stranger's voice.

"Richard," John called out, his voice rough.

The older man smiled. "It was a good guess, but no. My name's actually Dr Phillip Westfield."

"N-no. Richard. He brought me back to my room. H-how did he know?"

Looking puzzled, Phillip shook his head. "No, he didn't. You collapsed on the dance floor downstairs, and servants brought you back to your room before fetching me."

"No! I remember-"

"John," Phillip stated firmly, forcing him to look over. "You've just gotten over a remarkably high fever. It is perfectly plausible that you hallucinated during that time, so think this through logically. No guest is allowed to know where you are residing whilst here. How is it, then, that this Richard knew where you were staying and how to get there? It's impossible. Servants brought you back, and Molly came to find me. It's as simple as that."

John frowned but nodded nonetheless. It wouldn't make sense that Richard knew where he was staying unless he was the king, and that thought was laughable in and of itself. What would a king want to do with him, after all? "Right. My apologies," he murmured.

"None required. How are you feeling?"

John hesitated a moment, taking a full assessment of himself. "Much better, although parched."

Phillip produced a glass of water, and John gingerly took it before sipping carefully from it. Immediately, the cool liquid soothed his throat, and John hummed happily before sinking back into the mattress.

"With a bit more rest, you should be entirely recovered by morning," Phillip explained. "Although I wouldn't suggest that you overwhelm yourself too soon after recovering. I doubt I can keep you away from the gathering tomorrow night, but I must insist that you do not dance. It would be too much for your body to handle in its current state."

Groaning, John slumped back into the bed. Not being able to dance was a capitol punishment during such an occasion, not that he was making much headway in any case. Two alliances. At this rate, he would leave here with two alliances, and his family would think even less of him than before.

"I understand," he mumbled before drinking some more water.

"I am glad to hear it," Phillip replied with a smile. "The king himself has heard of your illness, and he sends his condolences. He also has requested for the chef to prepare soup for you as soon as you feel up to eating."

John was surprised to hear this. "The king knows about me?"

"Of course. When a guest falls ill under mysterious circumstances, it's protocol to inform the king in case poison was used. Luckily for you, though, it was a simple bug that your body will fend off for itself."

John nodded. Lucky wasn't exactly what he would call it, but he took it nonetheless. "Thank you, doctor."

"It was no problem. I will check up on you in a few hours," he replied before rising to his feet. "Rest."

As the doctor left, Molly hesitantly entered the room. "Lord John, are you feeling better?"

"Much better. Thank you," John responded with a smile. "I hope I didn't worry you too much."

Molly shuffled uncomfortably. "A bit. I was scared I had brought you a poisoned dish," she confessed. "The next time you're feeling poorly, you will inform me, sir? I would hate for something to happen to you."

"Of course, Molly," John replied. "I'm sorry to have worried you at all."

"Oh! Before I forget, the chef has a pot of chicken noodle soup prepared for you. Would you like me to bring you a bowl, sir?" she inquired.

John paused for a moment before nodding. "Yes, thank you."

Quickly, she scurried out of the room before returning a few minutes later with a bowl in her hands. Setting it down on the nightstand, Molly offered him a spoon before warning, "It's still hot. Careful."

John sat up before bringing the bowl over into his lap. Carefully, he blew on the first spoonful and took a sip. "My God," he whispered, surprised just how rich the broth was. "Did they make this with gold dust?"

Giggling, Molly replied, "The chefs never reveal their secrets."

"Cutthroat competition?" John suggestion.

Molly tried not to laugh only to fail. "How morbid!"

"And yet you laughed," John noted.

"I did," Molly acknowledged. "Shall I leave you then, sir?"

John ate another spoonful. "No. Stay with me for a bit. I think I've spent enough of today alone."

Pulling up a chair, Molly sat down next to him. "It seems you've already made friends. There were two men who were insistent on knowing any developments on your condition. Genuinely concerned. Trust me, my lord, I know the difference. Most people are only interested for their own gain. Not them, though."

John smiled as he heard that. "You honestly think that?" he pressed, trying to figure out whether or not she was just trying to make him feel better.

"I wouldn't lie to you about this, sir," Molly swore, crossing her heart.

Honestly, John was far more chuffed than he was willing to say. He could only guess how others felt, but with his lack of experience and education, he couldn't be certain. However, Molly would have far more experience than he. Not only that, but she seemed to be honest. He smiled to himself before finishing off the rest of his soup, content as he felt the warm liquid hit the bottom of his stomach.


	5. The Fifth Night

"John," Richard called out, immediately hooking his arm underneath John's in order to lead him away from the ballroom and onto an empty balcony. He was surprised that Richard found him so quickly, having only just entered.

Looking over at him, John had his breath taken away by Richard's appearance. Crimson red and gold melded together perfectly, the suit flashing gold in the light and the mask covered in gold dust and rubies. He couldn't help but think about how it so radically contrasted with his own suit. Tonight, he was in navy blue with silver embroidery and accents, and his own mask was encrusted with a few sapphires and silver dust.

"Richard," he managed to reply.

"How are you feeling? You're not too tired, are you?"

John grinned. "No, Mum, I'm fine," he responded before stopping and holding out his arms. "Want to straighten out my suit while you're at it?"

Richard tugged at his navy blue jacket before fiddling with the ruffles of his shirt. "There. Much better," he commented.

"You barely moved anything!"

"I moved enough," Richard replied with a mischievous grin.

John chuckled and shook his head. "I hope I didn't worry you too much yesterday," he finally commented, unsettled by the silence between them.

"I must admit that it was a bit distressing to see you faint in another man's arms," Richard responded. John couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "What matters, though, is that you're alright now. I thought perhaps you had been poisoned."

Humming, John looked over at him. "I have a peculiar question for you," he murmured. "And I need you to be entirely honest with me."

"Oh?"

"Last night – after I collapsed – did you take me back to my room and tend to me?" John asked.

Richard stared at John for a long moment. "How could I have?" he inquired. "I'm sorry, though, that I couldn't be there for you longer than I was. Obviously, you wanted me to be there."

John flushed and didn't know what to say. If he agreed, it might come off as desperate or that he was head-over-heels in love with Richard, which he wasn't sure he was. If he disagreed, though, it would be offensive to Richard, and he couldn't bring himself to do that. He could feel the anxiety begin to knot his stomach as he searched for a way to get out of the situation. Swallowing hard, he looked out at the gardens.

"I'm not allowed to dance tonight," he blurted out, needing to change the subject.

Although it wasn't a smooth transition, Richard didn't divert back to their previous conversation. "How unfortunate. I know Sebastian was looking forward to a proper dance with you."

"Speaking of which, how is he? We were discussing a possible trading agreement before I..." John let his voice trail. "I'm hoping he hasn't had enough time to reconsider and rescind his offer."

Richard clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "He won't, and if he did, it would hardly matter."

"It matters me, Richard!" John retorted, still unable to understand why Richard couldn't comprehend this. "As lovely and charming as you are, I can't go home and tell them that I only made one alliance here. My family would laugh me out of the house."

"Quality over quan-"

"Richard, stop," John ordered before looking over at him. Richard's mouth snapped shut in surprise. Both of them locked eyes, and John stared into those dark brown irises until he couldn't bear their weight any longer. They looked so sad, like Richard had never expected for John to treat him in such a way. "I know you are merely trying to look out for me, but no more of this manipulation. I'm not blind to it, as we've already established. It's not fair to make me feel guilty for something I have to do."

"My intentions were never to make you feel guilty," Richard replied, his usually bubbly voice dipping down to a sombre tone. "We both also know your social status. It's written all over your clothing and in your masks, although I can tell that your family tried its hardest to hide their financial status. The issue is that we all have been trained to spot out the elite in such a crowd and to know when someone isn't. You're lower nobility – probably the lowest of the low as well – which means that finding an alliance for you would be near impossible. Everyone's here to ally with someone richer or on the same financial field as him or her, and you have nothing that would recommend yourself to them in that regard. No one desires helping you restore the economy on your own land. You already deal with enough social anxiety that I didn't want this fact to cripple you as you saw attempt after attempt fail."

John looked up, eyes wide in astonishment and cheeks hot in embarrassment. "Why do you bother with me then? It doesn't take any training or education to know that you're one of those elite. Why bother with the lowest of the low?"

Richard smiled at him. "Because I like you, as I've already made clear on more than one occasion. You're a breath of fresh air in this place. Here, where everyone's forced to speak in subtext and whisper around his or her fears or desires, you quite bluntly state yours. Your lack of education has made you a perfect confidante. I know that I could turn to you and speak my mind without any fear that you would then use it against me in order to gain favour with someone else."

Hesitating, John allowed that information to soak in, and he couldn't help but feel pleased by the end of it. Richard trusted him! Although it wasn't much, it was a small victory to be sure. "I am uncertain if I should be offended or flattered by your statements," he jested.

"Perhaps you should find and ask Mycroft. I'm sure he would be more than willing to educate you," Richard stated with a grin.

John chuckled before looking down at the gardens. "Would you care for a walk?"

"I would love to," Richard replied before offering John an arm.

Immediately, John accepted the invitation and allowed Richard to lead him through the ballroom and downstairs to the gardens. Two guards who were on duty by the exit nodded to Richard as they walked through. Once they were in the garden, John felt better. The air was far fresher out here, and it was nice to be away from the party. "If the king were to find out how much time we spend away from his ball, I'm sure he would be entirely offended."

"Less offended, I believe, than if we had found him that first night to demand for him to end the festivities," Richard noted.

John added, "And the horde of nobles!"

Richard laughed. "Of course. I almost forgot."

Stopping to smell the roses, John caressed the petals and felt how soft they were. "This is such a beautiful garden. I only wish that we could-" Instinctively, he stopped himself from talking in order to keep himself from giving away any more information on his family's status.

"Well, this is the king's palace. I think it would be ludicrous for someone else to have a superior garden," Richard noted before plucking one of the roses and placing it into John's front pocket.

John touched it absentmindedly. "That wasn't yours to take," he whispered.

"Then I stole it for you," Richard informed him before tilting John's head up. "I'm willing to do anything for you, John."

Breath hitching, John stared into Richard's eyes before beginning to lean forward. Their breath mingled, and just as their lips were about to meet, a rustling broke their silent atmosphere. Immediately, John ripped away from Richard and tried to ground himself as a guard emerged from the brush. "Your-" he began to say.

"My what?" Richard snapped, cutting him off.

The guard was visibly startled. "Y-your… um… your presence is being missed in the ballroom by one Lord Sebastian, my lords," he answered.

"Thank you," Richard responded before turning back to John.

The guard backed away from them, and John hissed, "Did he steal your charcoal when you were a child?"

"You think I was too short with him after he ruined our moment?"

"He didn't know that we were having a moment," John pointed out, frowning.

Richard answered, "You think I should apologise to him for my previous attitude, which isn't going to happen."

"And why not?" John pressed.

"Because, John, apologising to anyone confirms that you have regrets about previous works and decisions made. I do not regret my words enough to apologise."

John felt baffled by the argument that Richard just presented him. "Something else you learned through your extensive education?" he pressed before pulling away from him. "Common decency should be extended to the common as well."

"In the fantastical world that you live in, this would be ideal. However, we live in the real world. Apologies should only happen in the direst of circumstances or else they will lose their significance in the world. If you had your way, everyone will be apologising for everything without meaning a word of it!"

John stared at Richard, stung by his statements. "What a horrific world this 'real' world must be then. I'm glad that my _imaginary_ world is so much better and entirely without flaws!" With that, he turned on his heels and started back towards the palace.

"John!" Richard called out, his voice sounding panicked. "John!"

Refusing to turn around, John was almost out of the garden before Richard caught back up with him. "John, I'm sorry," he said, pulling on John's arm to turn him back. "I didn't mean to pain you in such a way, but I wanted you to understand-"

John cut him off, "No, you've made your opinion perfectly clear. We both know I was never meant to be here. I'm neither rich nor educated enough. I make an utter fool of myself every time I try to socially interact with others. Every night, I head back to my room early because I cannot handle the social atmosphere whenever you leave. Even so, I try night after night to do properly by myself and by my family only to have clearly failed since you believe I live in this whimsical world where everything is sunshine and rainbows! I'm no better than a servant here in the minds of basically everyone in that ballroom, and I'm starting to think you haven't the high opinion of me you claim."

Richard recoiled as if John had struck him across the face. "No, John, no. Of course not. I've always thought highly of you and your character. But sometimes, you have to adapt. You have to understand that your view on a situation is going to be vastly different from most of ours. And sometimes, admittedly, you're going to be wrong on a topic. You can't become overly offended every time someone points this out."

"Pointing it out would be one thing, but you felt the need to emphasise my lack of education. Something which, mind you, is not my fault!"

Richard nodded emphatically. "I know. I know, John. That's why I apologised. It was unfair of me to attack such a sensitive subject due to irritation directed towards someone else. Please, John, overlook my lapse in discretion. It won't happen again."

John could tell that Richard was sincere in his sentiments. Even so, he still wasn't willing to let bygones be bygones. What Richard didn't seem to truly understand yet was that his words had power over John. Honestly, John cherished his opinion and thought highly of him. Therefore, hearing that Richard thought so little of him genuinely upset John. "Make sure it doesn't," he stated.

"Everything alright?" Sebastian's voice called out, causing both of them to look up the staircase that led into the ballroom. "I've been looking for you both all night. John, it's nice to see that you're up and about. Feeling better?"

John offered Sebastian a smile. "Yes, thank you. My apologies for yesterday."

"It's alright. I'm quite used to it. Most people faint upon realising that I'm offering to open a trade market with them," Sebastian responded in jest.

Laughing, John answered, "I can imagine. You've built up quite some muscle from carrying all of those people."

Sebastian flexed his arms jokingly. "In my early twenties, I had to have a tailor remake my suits every month due to how much I muscle I was gaining."

"Yes, well," Richard stated, delving into the conversation, "we should probably head back up to the ballroom."

"Ah, yes. But I would give it a moment. I just managed to get away from Irene. Apparently, Richard, you offended her greatly the other night. Currently, she's giving a second-by-second explanation of your slight towards her to anyone who even hesitates around her."

Immediately, John felt horrible. Richard had been defending him, after all. "I'm sorry," he whispered, looking back at him.

"I would do it all over again," Richard stated before looking back at Sebastian. "I have no concerns. Irene has a vindictive demeanour obvious to even the servants. Anyone who believes her tale does not deserve my time in the first place."

John smiled to himself when he heard that. For a noble, status and reputation meant everything. One person could easily dismantle a family by knowing the right information. But Richard clearly cared more for John's honour than his own. As Richard passed him on the staircase, heading up towards the ballroom, John reached out and grabbed his sleeve. He looked back in surprise.

"Thank you," John murmured.

Smiling, Richard brought John's hand up to his lips before gently pressing a kiss to it. John's hand tingled under Richard's lips. "It is my pleasure."

John carefully drew his hand back before sucking in a deep breath. It was terrifying, really. Despite their differences, John could entirely picture himself falling in love with this man. This man who spoke so animatedly and candidly with him. He felt as if he could entrust him with his deepest, darkest fears, and Richard wouldn't betray him. Honestly, John had never felt that way towards anyone, not even his own family. Everyone had something to gain from someone else's weakness, and it was just something John had learned to deal with. But perhaps he didn't have to always live like this. That was the hope that Richard had given him in the matter of days.

However, John still had reservations about their relationship. It had been built in less than a week, and Richard wanted to court him from the first night. John didn't like to think that he was cynical, but he still didn't truly understand what Richard was gaining from their relationship. John couldn't make heads or tails of it. Part of him worried that perhaps he was just a charity case. Richard knew that no one would want to ally with him, after all. By making his acquaintance, he already gave John opportunities to form other alliances, and he could be planning on falling out of contact as soon as the week was over.

John felt sick at the thought.

"John?" Richard called out, heading back to stand next to him. "You look pale. You should get back to your room and sleep. You haven't recuperated enough yet."

"I think you're right," John lied, not wanting to talk about what was actually on his mind. "Thank you for your company tonight."

"Anytime," Richard responded.

Nodding, John bade both Sebastian and Richard a fair night before finding Molly. She led him back to his room before excusing herself. John tugged back his sheets before finding a letter on his pillowcase. Gingerly, he picked it up to find the seal of the king on the back of it. Surprised, he opened it and unfolded the page. The calligraphy was gorgeous, practiced, and precise. It took John a moment to take it all in before he could read the actual words on the page.

* * *

My dear Lord Watson,

Due to your uncertain condition, I have ordered my personal chef to prepare you _boeuf_ _bourguignon_ tonight and tomorrow morning should you so desire. My physician, though diligent work and careful research, has conclusively decided that you possessed nothing more than an ailment any human might be subjected to throughout his life.

With that in mind, I want to impress upon you the fact that you mustn't worry about your safety whilst in my palace. I have taken careful measures in order to ensure that no harm will come to a single guest. With you, I aim to take the extra precaution by having my personal chef prepare any future meals you might require as well as a tester to check that none of your dishes are poisoned. I hope these facts will help you relax for the rest of your stay here.

With kind regards,

Your King

* * *

John read and reread the letter again and again, still shocked by its contents. He couldn't believe just how kind and considerate the king was, especially to someone like him. There was a good amount of hope for the future of the kingdom then. Although he could never say it aloud, John knew the last king had been detrimental. Between nearly starting up ten wars and ruining the economy, he had no interest in helping anyone. John naturally feared that his son would be the same way, but that was evidently not the case.

Carefully, John set the letter onto his nightstand before preparing for bed. Soon, everyone would know who the king was, and he wondered that the king had been doing for the last several nights. He hoped that he was enjoying himself at the very least. After all, it would be demoralising to place so much time and effort into an event only to not enjoy it. As he tucked himself into bed, he stared at the note a moment longer before drifting off to sleep.


	6. The Sixth Night

The sixth night was upon them, and John marvelled at how quickly time passed. Tonight, he had to wear his least favourite suit – one that faded from the sky blue colouring at his shoulders down to black at the bottom of his trousers. His mother had wanted something that looked like the coming of the night sky, and they wound up with this monstrosity. Of course, she loved it. Despite his numerous protests, she forced him to pack it. Since he couldn't put on a previous suit, as that would be improper conduct and imply that his family could not afford to have seven suits tailored, and since he didn't want to wear it the final night when the king would make himself known, he was reduced to wearing it.

Once he had his mask on, John glanced at himself in the mirror before grimacing. Atrocious. Honestly, he didn't know what his mother saw. His mask was supposed to be half sunny day, half starry night, but it wound up looking more like someone accidentally spilt yellow on one side and white on the other. Embarrassed, John allowed Molly to escort him to the ballroom only to make a dash for a hidden nook in the wall. It was shielded on one side by a column, meaning that the corner was cast in shadow. He didn't care if he had to stay there all night as long as it meant that no one saw him.

For the first time since he had been there, John was able to actually observe other people. He used to do it all the time as a kid – before Harry banned him from going to galas. His eyes drifted from person to person, examining them briefly. Most of them appeared to be having a good time, and almost all of them were talking to other people. Plural. John felt another wave of guilt rush over him as he thought about his mere two alliances – one solid and one unconfirmed. He just wasn't cut out to be a proper nobleman. There was a reason that the family kept Harry around for so long despite his alcoholism – they knew John couldn't handle it.

Then he spotted Richard. Tonight, his suit was a gorgeous crimson red with dark purple lowlights. Nobility incarnate. Educated. Intelligent. Witty. Sociable. Amiable. In all their time together, John hadn't seen him falter once. He was incredible – everything John's family had wanted _him_ to be. Once again, he pondered as to why Richard saw anything in this bumbling, stuttering fool.

A woman greeted Richard, and he bowed to her. John didn't recognise her at all – hardly shocking, what with a mask on – but he couldn't help but feel worried. In all their time together, John had never thought that maybe Richard was forming many other alliances. Soon enough, another man joined them. And then another. A new woman popped in, and they began to form their own clique with Richard in the centre. Everyone was obviously having a good time, laughing and talking animatedly. Doubt began to crawl to the forefront of John's mind, and he leaned heavily against the wall behind him.

Richard's eyes suddenly met his, and John's breath stopped for a moment. When they passed over, though, he let out the breath before sliding along the wall and disappearing into the crowd. He shifted his way through before heading down the stairs. The guards, who always remained vigil at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly stepped out and blocked his way. "Sorry, sir, but the gardens are off limits."

"Off limits?" John inquired, stunned. "They've never been off limits before."

The guards both exchanged looks before one shook his head. "Not tonight, sir. I'm sorry."

"John!"

Looking back, John nearly groaned when he saw Richard descending the stairs. "Don't look at me. I'm hideous," he declared dramatically.

"Ah, yes, a regular beast," Richard remarked as he reached John's step. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Tonight's the night, after all."

Confused, John tilted his head. "The night?"

"John Sommelier, tonight is the night when you tell me your real last name."

John blinked before smiling. "It is the sixth night, isn't it? Very well. My last name is…" He paused and glanced around him. "Sommelier," he whispered.

Laughing, Richard responded, "How about I go first then? Brook. Richard Brook."

John's brain reeled with the name. He didn't have the time to memorise every royal family's surname before coming, and now it was biting him in the arse. Brook. Brook! Why couldn't he remember a single thing about the Brook family? Not even a general knowledge of their territory! He could only hope that Richard wouldn't notice his lack of recognition.

"Watson," John replied. "John Watson."

"Watson… as in Harry Watson's younger brother?"

John laughed bitterly. "Yes, that's the one."

Richard immediately realised his error. "My apologies. I didn't mean to invoke any unwanted feelings." With that, he offered his arm out for John to accept. "Shall we? It's been far too long since we last danced."

"No," John replied. "Not in this get up. I honestly have no idea what my mother was thinking when she decided to commission this outfit."

"I think you're being far too critical. It's a nice suit," Richard said. "Reminds me of the oncoming night sky."

John groaned. "If you're not embarrassed by it, that means I must dance with you. Right?"

"John Watson," Richard called out, catching John's attention, "you could never embarrass me."

Smiling, John teased, "That sounds like a challenge."

"A challenge you will lose," Richard informed him. "You're far too conscientious to properly embarrass me."

John knew that what Richard said was true. Nodding, he accepted Richard's offer, and he was escorted back up into the ballroom. "I couldn't help but notice just how many people you were talking to earlier. For a man who preaches about quality over quantity, you have quite a quantity."

"Most of them were excitedly giving their last names," Richard told him.

"A lot of laughing for last names."

Glancing over at him, Richard inquired, "Is that jealousy I'm hearing?"

"No!" John exclaimed far too quickly before flushing. "I-I mean…"

"It's fine," Richard replied. "I like a bit of jealousy in a relationship. It makes me feel desired."

John didn't know what to say. Should he deny his jealousy, Richard would either know he was lying or be upset that he wasn't jealous. However, if he were to confirm… well, that had numerous implications, most of which John wasn't ready to face yet. Practically dragging Richard out onto the dance floor, John took the lead and started them into the dance. Gradually, he relaxed. No one was staring at him in his hideous suit. In fact, there was barely anyone dancing at all.

"They're far too eager to find out everyone else's name," Richard filled in.

Looking back at Richard, John inquired, "Why aren't you more interested?"

"I found out the names that matter."

Sceptical, John pressed, "Sebastian's?"

"Moran."

"That woman's? I-Irene…?"

"Adler. But I wouldn't say that she mattered."

"What about that guy you hate? Mycroft?"

"Holmes," Richard stated. "But I knew that from before, and he doesn't truly matter either. Are you satisfied now?"

John wanted to say that he wasn't and ask another name only for his mind to blank. Who else did he know? Horror slowly seeped into his bones as he realised the answer was _no_ _one_. He knew no one else besides that handful of people, and most of them didn't even like him. "Yes," he breathed out.

"Oh, dear, you're not still worried, are you? Six nights, and I haven't been able to help you at all, have I?" Richard inquired.

"Help me?" John echoed.

Nodding, Richard explained, "With relaxing. You're far too wrapped up in your perceived responsibilities that you're not enjoying what you are doing. And with whom you are doing them."

"I think I enjoy you just fine," John replied.

"Obviously not."

"Oh? And how do you know?" he asked.

Richard smirked. "Because you have yet to kiss me. The real fun never happens until you kiss me."

Letting out a deep breath, John stared into Richard's eyes. "Y-you expect me to kiss you here? Now?"

"No, of course not. But I am just telling you that you're not enjoying me entirely until you kiss me." With that, Richard suddenly took lead and dipped John.

John almost lost his balance. "If you're trying to literally sweep me off my feet, you're doing a bloody good job of it."

"My apologies. I shouldn't have caught you off guard like that." Richard pulled John back up and close to him before they started to dance once more. "Those who are dancing right now have romantic inclinations. That's the only reason you would dance with someone on such an important night."

John swallowed hard before glancing around them. One – two – three – four other couples were dancing, each one lost in the other's gaze. "And your inclinations? They have not changed since discovering my true lineage?"

"I will admit that it's not as glamorous as a sommelier," Richard jested, "but I'm still more than happy with you in my arms." John was surprised. "You keep me right, John Watson. I know you don't see it yet, but you will. You keep me on my toes. Keep me thoughtful. You challenge me, and I like to think that I help you. That it's a symbiotic relationship."

John nodded. "Even so, our time is coming to a close soon. We're going to have to return to our own properties, which will be leagues away from one another. Our responsibilities are sure to get in the way of our travelling plans, and the process will be slowed down, don't you believe?" he inquired nervously. "A-affections might fade."

"My affections for you will not fade. And, of course, there are always letters," Richard stated. "I imagine we will both strive to continue our courtship once that time comes. However, until then, I plan on using the rest of tonight and tomorrow enjoying your presence." He smiled at John. "Relax, John. Remember? I was the one who was set on wooing you. I will figure something out."

Sighing, John nodded and relaxed into Richard's form. He worried that – once Richard got away from him – he would rethink his feelings and find that John wasn't good enough for him. And John wasn't – his breeding alone was less than desirable, and what had he to offer in dowry? Slowly, they came to a stop, and John bowed slightly before seeing someone approach in his peripheral vision. Sebastian stepped forward and nodded to Richard, who backed away with a nod in response. Taking up the lead, Sebastian began to guide John through a new dance.

"Sebastian Moran at your service," he greeted with a grin.

Relieved he could remember information about the Moran family, John smiled back at him. "John Watson at yours."

"It's nice to no longer have to worry about accidentally slipping up," Sebastian noted. "I cannot recall how many times I had to bite my tongue."

"Yes, and now we can actually talk about trade."

Laughing, Sebastian dipped John. "Already ready to talk shop, are we?"

"I assumed that's why you asked me to dance," John replied with a grin.

Sebastian pulled him back up. "Was I so obvious?" he jested.

"Only a bit. I assure you that an uneducated eye wouldn't have been able to notice at all," John teased.

Humming, Sebastian replied, "Watson family. Your territory is known for its agricultural and domestic trade, correct?"

"That's correct. And Moran – you run industrial factories, yes? We're in some need of factories. You see, our wool is top quality, but we do not have the capability to create our own fabrics," John commented. It was a bluff. They were in dire need of factories, but he couldn't let Sebastian know he had such an overwhelmingly upper hand over him.

Sebastian said, "And we're in _some_ need of agricultural produce. I believe there's an arrangement in the making here." John heard the emphasis on "some." It told him two things: one, that Sebastian knew that John needed factories more than he could admit, and two, that Sebastian was in dire need of agricultural produce.

"I concur," John responded just as the song came to a close.

Suddenly, Richard was upon them. "Everything sorted? Yes? Good," he stated before taking John's arm and dragging him off.

John stumbled behind him in surprise. "W-wait! What's this all about? Why are you acting this way?"

"No time to explain! Come on!" Richard replied, heading straight for the balcony.

"N-no time? There's always-" John started to object until they staggered out onto the balcony. He looked up and gasped in shock. "Isn't it supposed to be a full moon tonight?"

Richard grinned. "It's a lunar eclipse, John."

John stared in fascination as the moon began to disappear from view. "I've never seen one before."

"They're rare," Richard conceded. "I saw it starting to happen, and I thought you would like seeing it, too."

John smiled and pressed in closer to Richard. "Shouldn't we tell the others?"

"And share this special moment? Never," Richard whispered before reaching over and tilting John's head to look at him. "John Watson."

Heart pounding, John couldn't help but stare at Richard's lips. "Y-yes?" he inquired softly, swallowing hard.

"You're missing the eclipse," Richard murmured before leaning down and gently pressing his lips against John's own.

John felt a jolt of electricity shoot through his veins, and he gasped. As soon as his brain began to function again, he pressed back, wanting Richard to know that the kiss was wanted. He felt Richard's arms wrap around his waist and pull him closer. Groaning, John nipped at Richard's lower lip in retaliation. Richard growled before sucking on John's lower lip and then pressing for entrance into his mouth.

It was then that John became aware of where they were. Panting, he pulled back and shook his head. "Lunar eclipse," he managed to get out before turning to watch it. The moon was just about gone now.

Richard said nothing. He didn't chastise John for having pulled back, and he didn't complain about wanting more, both of which John had feared. Instead, he wrapped his arms around John's waist from behind and held him as they watched the eclipse together.


	7. The Seventh Night

Honestly, John wasn't sure if he was relieved or sad that tonight was the final night of the masquerade. He hardly cared that the king would choose his future spouse, although he knew he should. Even so, Richard remained the main cause of his distress. Despite having almost made it through the week, John knew that he and Richard would be parted soon, and that weighed heavily on his mind. Richard had objected, but loss of interest was entirely possible. John would return home, claiming only two alliances, and his family would never let him live it down if his suitor never contacted him again. John felt queasy at the thought.

"My lord?" Molly called out, knocking on the door. "I have a gift for you."

Surprised, John opened the door to find her holding a white box. "A gift? From whom?"

"I didn't read the card, sir."

John took the box gingerly, not sure what was inside of it, and headed over to his bed. Setting it down, he opened up the card and read through the single line.

_I thought you might want to go out in style, and this reminded me of you._

Richard. It had to be. Quickly, John yanked the lid off to find a blue and red mask and a matching blue and red cape inside. He picked up the mask and stared in awe at it. It was encrusted in rubies and sapphires – far more valuable than John's entire wardrobe combined. They blazed in the light, and he noticed how they would only cover up a small portion around his eyes. Tonight was the night they would reveal themselves – just after the king declared his new betrothed. He placed it on before looking down at the cape. Pulling it up, he felt the soft silk, and he gasped at the feel of it. It rippled almost like water in his hands, bending and folding into the shape he desired.

And then he found the suit: sapphire blue with ruby red, both crashing together to make sprinkles of royal purple. It was a stunning piece – something that would grab the attention of anyone around, and it was his. Carefully, he slipped into his new suit before examining himself in the mirror. He honestly couldn't believe he was looking at himself. He seemed almost erethral, and he gave a twirl around in order to see the cape flutter and snap behind him. Without a doubt, this was beyond anything that he had dared to hope for.

"My lord, you are dashing," Molly stated with a broad smile. "Everyone shall be envious of you!"

John laughed. "Because they had nothing to be envious about before, eh?"

"Th-that's not what I meant, sir!" Molly exclaimed, turning red with embarrassment.

"No! That's not what I intended to imply. I was merely stating a fact is all," John quickly responded before grimacing. She wasn't to know about his low self-esteem, after all.

Molly nodded before swallowing hard. "I'm still so very sorry, my lord. I don't want you to think that I think less of you. You've been far too kind to me for such silly notions."

"Thank you, Molly. Now, could you please escort me?"

Molly nodded before heading down the hall. They took more time than usual, merely because John asked for it. He had been so fascinated by the tapestries at the beginning of the week that he felt like now – during his last chance – he should give them the attention they deserved. The attention to detail was immaculate. Someone actually managed to include shading in some of the later tapestries, as it was a relatively new concept. None of them were cut nor had holes. They were probably washed fairly often. They had to be to remain in the states that they were in.

"Sir, we're going to be late for the announcement!" Molly urged him.

Sighing, John stopped examining the stitching of one of the tapestries. "My apologies," he murmured, knowing that being late would serve as a slap in the face to the king himself.

They walked into the ballroom, and John was baffled by what was before him. Usually, everyone was talking eagerly with anyone they could. Tonight, it seemed that they couldn't stand to be in each other's presence. Everyone was instead looking around, every now and again muttering nervously to his or her neighbour. John, however, began to look for Richard. He started shuffling through the crowd, murmuring apologies to everyone as he went. However, Richard was nowhere to be found.

"All please be silent for His Majesty, King James Moriarty II," an announcer bellowed.

Biting back a groan, John turned to look only to find the back of a remarkably tall man. He looked at the floor and concentrated, hoping that hearing would be enough.

"Thank you so very much for coming and celebrating with me. Although there has been plenty of mourning for my father's passing, I know that such occasions bring about better futures for ourselves and the kingdom," the king stated.

John was struck by the voice. It was familiar to him, but just off enough that he couldn't place it. Maybe he had heard the king in passing? It was implausible but entirely possible.

The king continued, "I know that you have been waiting quite some time for this announcement, so I will not prolong any further. I _have_ chosen my future spouse. This person has proven to be loyal, kind-hearted, good-natured, and well humoured. I know that we will spend many happy years of our lives together. Therefore, please give a hearty round of applause for my new betrothed and your future ruler – John Watson!"

John's heart stopped in his chest. He was dreaming! He had to be. These sorts of things didn't happen to people like him. Sucking in a deep breath, he continued staring at the ground. The applause rang around him, but he couldn't move from his spot. Why was he nam-?

_Richard._

The voice – that's why it was so familiar to him for all this time. Richard's voice. Which mean that Richard was…

"Oh, by the Gods," John cursed under his breath.

Looking up, he noticed that everyone was looking around, all clearly trying to figure out who this John Watson was. John stepped forward and pardoned himself. Slowly, the crowd of people began to part for him, and he located the king. It was Richard without a doubt. He was wearing a matching outfit with the colours reversed.

John stepped before him and stared into his eyes. Richard – no, James, he supposed – smiled before reaching up and undoing John's mask. John did the same. For the first time, John was able to gaze upon the man he was coming to love. His face was more boyish than John had expected, especially given how mature he was. There was also evidence of some stubble, and John couldn't help but smile at that.

"You've been lying to me," John stated before looking up into James's eyes. "Saying you were Richard Brook. Did you know how fast my heart began to race when I realised that I knew nothing about the Brook family?"

James laughed. "It was written all over your face, but I spared you. After all, there is no Brook family."

"Your Majesty," a voice called out, and they turned to find Sebastian. "I believe I have fulfilled my duties."

Nodding, James responded, "And beautifully done as well. I'll ensure to add a bonus to your salary. Thank you very much for keeping John safe."

"Safe?" John echoed.

Sebastian smiled. "It was my honour, your Majesty."

"You are dismissed," James informed him before turning back to John. Offering his arm, he said, "I believe we have much to discuss."

John nodded. "Indeed. First of all, what task did you bestow upon him?"

"Not here," James hissed before taking John down the stairs into the garden. "You never know who is listening."

John sighed. "I'm waiting for my answer, _your Majesty._"

"I'm sure you already have suspicions about it," James informed him as they went deeper into the garden. "I requested for Sebastian to keep an eye on you."

Stopping, John responded, "No. You told him to show interest in me so I would stop searching for other alliances, didn't you? You knew that I wouldn't get any interest, and you knew that that might make me desperate, so you thought that you would just provide me with one, right? Play me for a fool-"

"No, John!" James cut in, clearly panicked by his line of thought. "No. It was never my intention to play you for a fool. But due to my interest in you, I had to ensure that you wouldn't wind up in an unfavourable alliance. After all, once we marry-"

"Marry?" John echoed, staring at him. "You honestly want to marry me?"

"Did you think I was just making a show of everything?" James inquired, obviously offended. "Of course I want to marry you. I told you the first night of my intentions."

John felt his head start to swim. "I-I-I can't be king!" he objected, staring at James with wide, fearful eyes. "I'm not fit to be king! I lack the education and the ability and… and the _everything_ for it!"

"You are fit to be my partner," James stated before catching John's hand and drawing him in close. "You are more than fit to be my partner. You bring out my best qualities in a way that no one has before. Besides, John, you're intelligent. I know that with some proper tutelage, you will be the finest king, even without me by your side."

Sucking in a deep breath, John stared at him. "You honestly want _me_ to be your husband? You don't think that maybe you're making the biggest mistake of your life?"

"I suppose that I might be, but I honestly don't think so. You're kind, John, and genuine – loyal almost to a default." With that, he ran his fingers tenderly through John's hair. "There are hard times ahead for the kingdom, John. Relations in the south have begun to fall apart, and I fear that we might be going to war soon. I'm going to need someone I can trust. I'm going to need you."

John felt the weight of the world land suddenly on his shoulders. He breathed deeply, trying to keep himself calm. "I don't even know how I'm going to tell my family," he jested before laughing nervously.

"Via letter would be best. I do not want you to leave my side until we are securely married," James whispered before stepping closer. He leaned down and kissed John softly. "Do you forgive me for the deceit? If I had had any other option, I would have done that, but I couldn't. I had to protect my own identity first. I'm sorry."

Relaxing, John kissed James in return. "I know. But there's just one more thing I have to know."

"Anything."

"That night I was sick – you brought me back to my room, didn't you?" John pressed. "I didn't just dream all of that like the doctor said. You brought me back and tended to me."

James averted his eyes. "Indeed," he murmured. "I hope you do not think less of me. I wasn't trying to take advantage of the situation in the bathtub. You just seemed unwilling to get in."

"I hardly care about that," John chided before leaning forward and kissing James softly. "That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me, and I was crushed when I found out that it was all just a dream."

Relaxing, James ran his fingers through John's hair. "I was willing to do far more than that to ensure your health," he whispered.

"I know. I will never have to fear for my life near you, will I?"

"Not if I can help it," James commented with a smile. "I sincerely mean that, John. I will strive to keep you safe and healthy. You shall never fear for your life. I will never order for your beheading."

John laughed. "Quite a relief to hear," he jested. Looking up into James's eyes, he still couldn't believe what was happening. "J-James, I-"

"Jim," James corrected. "Call me Jim when we're in private. James is the king, but Jim – Jim is the man who fell in love with you."

John shook his head. "Richard was the man who fell in love with me," he corrected. "But I think you've stolen my heart anyway."

"And I hopefully swept you off your feet as a good romantic partner should," Jim responded before leaning down and kissing him.

John melted under the kiss, happy to be in Jim's arms. From this day forward, he knew he would always have Jim by his side, to have and to hold, to cherish and to love, for better or for worse until death ripped one from the other's life. And John also knew that Death was going to have to fight a strong battle to take him down. Jim was more than worth living for.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This is my last chaptered fanfiction due to circumstances and time. Rare one-shots will still be posted whenever written. Thank you for your support.


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